(In Forest Park)
Watching a beetle,
My reflection lit upon its shell.
You, watching the leaves flutter,
Down, down, softly down.
Causing no pain.
A baby snail
Delicate late season blooms,
The way your brain works makes me so thankful to know you. So much respect for nature, taking the time to notice the tiny details. I love you.ReplyDelete
Thanks Molly Proctor. Nature and Poetry are ways in which I can feel something greater than the human mundane. I love you too.ReplyDelete